


t'es si beau

by eliottamoureux



Series: Minute par Minute [3]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: ..... soft, Blushing, Hugging, Kissing, M/M, and i'm so soft for them, compliments, domestic morning, how many times will i put 'soft' in the tags, lucas tears up but only the teeniest bit, so soft, soft soft soft, they're just... so cute and soft, unrepentant fluff to procrastinate the papers i should be writing lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliottamoureux/pseuds/eliottamoureux
Summary: They pull away finally, and Lucas feels like the floor has dropped out from beneath his feet when he looks at Eliott. His eyes are shining in the morning light, his hair sticking up this way and that, an untameable mess from a full night’s sleep. Eliott’s hand is still cradling his cheek gently, and Lucas leans into it subconsciously.“You’re so beautiful.” He says, quiet but sure.





	t'es si beau

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote the first part of this a little bit ago, and i really wanted to write something & get it ready for posting, and this happened.  
> i have a couple of days and then my exams are done, so after that i should be able to get another chapter of _pas peur_ up, but i figured this would be enough to tide you guys over until then.  
> [have ideas you'd like to see me write?? send them here!!](https://paspeurpaspeurpaspeur.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for reading! <3

Lucas’ eyes blink open slowly to the sun filtering in through the window. He realizes shortly after that he’s alone in the bed, and he’s concerned for the briefest of moments, before the smell of eggs wafts in from the kitchen.

If it had been a few weeks sooner, he would have been concerned for an entirely different reason. But Eliott has redeemed himself recently when it comes to cooking— he’s proven himself somewhat adequate rather than virtually useless. Lucas trusts him to cook eggs now, without having to worry about a repeat of the PONI incident. He checks his phone and sees that it’s around ten o’clock in the morning, and so he pulls on a pair of boxers and an old sweatshirt before padding out into the kitchen.

He stops in the hall when he sees Eliott. Now that he’s near the kitchen, he can hear the soft music that Eliott’s dancing to, wiggling around as he sprinkles something into the pan. He’s smiling softly to himself as he does, in a world of his own, and Lucas’ heart  _ aches _ with the domesticity of it. 

He thinks of how he couldn’t possibly imagine a better sight to wake up to. 

He thinks about how would have been scared—  _ terrified,  _ even _ —  _ of imagining something like this only a few months ago, let alone living it.

He thinks about how, now, he can’t imagine his life being any different.

He thinks about how different his life is, and how quickly he got here, about how before ever day felt like another challenge, another trial, another day being afraid of himself; now, every day is a gift, he looks forward to every moment— every  _ minute—  _ that he gets to spend by Eliott’s side. He thinks of how much they’ve grown together, despite the fact that they’ve only been together for a few months. He thinks of them growing together for many, many years more. He thinks of everything they’ve been through, and how it was worth it a million times over for moments like these. 

He thinks of a future that he never thought he had, a future where he’s happy.

A future where him and Eliott are together and in love, until they’re old and wrinkly and grey.

He wipes his misty eyes before he makes his way into the kitchen. Eliott hears his footsteps, and the smile that lights up his entire face when their eyes meet makes Lucas’ legs weak.

“Morning, love.” Eliott says, and Lucas would be able to sense his boyfriend’s smile even with his eyes closed. They come together with a force as natural as gravity, kissing each other gently before standing there, enveloped in each other.

“Morning.” Lucas says back, his voice muffled as he nuzzles into Eliott’s shoulder. They stand like that for a few moments, swaying gently in each other’s arms, breathing each other in. They pull away finally, and Lucas feels like the floor has dropped out from beneath his feet when he looks at Eliott. His eyes are  _ shining  _ in the morning light, his hair sticking up this way and that, an untameable mess from a full night’s sleep. Eliott’s hand is still cradling his cheek gently, and Lucas leans into it subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.” He says, quiet but sure. Voicing his affections is difficult for Lucas, especially when he has so  _ many  _ for Eliott. But he practices every day, beats down his anxieties and his worries to let his boyfriend know exactly how he feels about him, even if it’s only in small bits. 

The reward he gets, though, is always more than worth it.

Eliott’s eyes widen, if only a fraction, his lips parting slightly in surprise. A beat passes, and then a soft flush floods across his face, colouring his cheeks the most gorgeous shade of pink where the morning sun hits his face. Lucas can see hints of it along his jaw and the top of his neck, too, but only just. Eliott leans in and touches their foreheads together, looking down at him. They stay like that for what can’t be more than a couple of seconds, and then Eliott is pressing their lips together gently.

“I love you.” Lucas says when they pull apart. More often than not, Eliott’s the one that says  _ I love you _ first, when they’re parting ways for the day, when they’re making out. Eliott was the first one of them to say it that day at the bus stop— the very first  _ I love you  _ of their entire relationship. Lucas was too caught off guard to say the words back, but he made sure Eliott knew the feeling was mutual.

Now, though, in this moment,  _ he’s  _ the first one to say it. He says it and then he leans up for another kiss. It’s gentle,  _ so gentle _ , the definition of tender. Their noses brush together, and Lucas can feel the barest hints of stubble as his thumb rubs at Eliott’s jaw. He doesn’t know when it happened, but all he knows is that now, in this moment, he is fully and truly happy.

And when Eliott looks right back at him, and says, “I love you, too,” he knows that the feeling is—  _ still _ is,  _ always will be— _ mutual.


End file.
